The Light World
by Leopardess
Summary: announcement*TheNight World isn't a place but the Light World is. What will happen when it's discovered by the Council? Will it be destroyed or can their queen save them from invasion? *I can't write summaries, but I promise the story is better. Review??*
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All aspects of the Night World belong to L.J Smith.  
  
This story is just my take on a world outside the Night World. The thought came to me one day as I was talking to friends and refused to leave my mind till I put it down on paper. I will write this as quick as I can, which I fear will not be quick at all because I start year 12 (the last year of high school) on February 4. Please be patient with me.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Light World  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
~ A paranoid person is a person in possession of the facts. ~  
  
  
  
Discount everything you've been taught about your world. It is propaganda. Reality falsified by those in power to keep you from the truth. Don't even believe the news; it is the most government-controlled method of conspiracy. How do you think everyone is entranced to believe that mere persons are more powerful just because they have money?  
  
Don't believe everything just because it is said under the heading of science. Science is the most corrupt body of power on Earth. Have you ever been arguing with someone, and quieted once they mention that they have science behind their reasoning. Discount all of this.  
  
Is it possible that there are pockets of people on Earth that are not affected by the world's triumphs and its tragedies?  
  
What if there were?  
  
What if their world is ruled not by men, but by women? What if they had powers you have only dreamed of possessing? What if their world was not called Earth? What if they lived side by side with you, worked side by side with you, ate side by side with you, but you did not see them?  
  
What if the thin veil between both worlds were broken?  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Well? What do you think? I'm not sure if you want me to continue this story especially since I am creating a world outside the goddess LJ's marvellous Night World. I would greatly appreciate it if you would review and tell me if you either want me to continue or if you want me to stop now while I'm ahead. 


	2. Part One

I thank all who have reviewed. You definitely made my day.  
  
BlendedPeaches - Your wish is my command!  
  
Michi - Thank you for reviewing. Glad that my prologue was intriguing and I hope you like the rest. I won't lie and say that I always finish what I start *looks at her draw filled with her unfinished and mostly neglected work* but this story won't leave me alone until I write it down. So lets keep hoping. : )  
  
Kendal - Hi! Well, I've figured out very loosely how it's tied to the Night World, it's just that I don't have the specifics yet. I keep getting inspired just as I wake from sleep, so I hope that continues. It's just that the inspiration isn't in any particular order. About the issues . . . um . . . I will answer the questions I brought up, but the bit about the government and science, well those are just my twisted opinions on my slightly cynical days. But I'll see if the plot can handle conspiracies. lol ; - )  
  
Askani - Thanks for reviewing! I hope you're still interested when I continue. Year 12 is the pits. I have just started but I don't want to scare you with the horror stories and the homework is *shudders* . . . I won't go there. lol  
  
* * *  
  
The Light World  
  
Part One  
  
~ Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you,  
  
because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most  
  
unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic won't find it ~  
  
- Roald Dahl  
  
The Light World is the dream world. The place where fantasies are made, a place the real world cannot control, where tragedies are a dream and dreams are reality.  
  
It's not a place where the sky is green and the trees are made of cotton candy. It is a real world with real people who have real feelings and emotions. They're just different. They have the powers that people only dream of; do the things that people can only imagine. But to them this is reality and the `real' world is the dream. Or the nightmare.  
  
Dreams feed their world. Every time a child wishes upon a star or writes a letter to Santa, the Light World becomes stronger, brighter, and is more real to those who believe in enchantment of the spirit and laughter of the soul.  
  
But with the good, the bad always follows. Earth has beautiful places where magic still sizzles in the air, where fairies fly and stars are born; and next to the magic there are places of dead Earth where bulldozers reign and waste settles. Similarly, the Light World has Centre Rose - its name christened by a princess a long time ago in childish innocence - its an area where magic reigns. Dreams are wishes the heart makes, and nightmares are fears the heart wishes never come to life. Both dreams and nightmares have an affect on the Light World.  
  
Every world has its evil and its good. A dream strengthens the life of Centre Rose and it's surrounding regions. A nightmare, however, strengthens the powers of the shadier side of the Light World: Dark Thorn. The places were named after plants to epitomize the almost fragile nature of the Light World. Without nurturing a plant with water and fertilizer it will not grow, so to must people nurture the Light World in order for it to mature into a far better or worse place. The Light World needs both the dreams and the nightmares so that harmony can be achieved between Centre Rose and Dark Thorn.  
  
But harmony is not achieved in the Light World. People in the real world have stoped dreaming, stopped hoping. They focus more on money and less on magic.  
  
Hope is dying in the real world; magic, consigned only to children; love only to romantic fools. The world is only concerned with careers, ambitions, money and power. Gone are the days of trust and harmony. Today's world is full of war and pain, suspicion and hate.  
  
Dark Thorn is getting stronger while Centre Rose weakens. So started the troubles of Centre Rose  
  
* * *  
  
Catherine ran up the stairs, her sandals slapping on the cold stones in a merciless rhythm. Frantic, her thoughts were a jumble of sentences, most unfinished, but all throbbing an insistent question: Where is Maya? A string of yarn tangled in a labyrinth of unforgiving snarls. Her thoughts like the yarn, jumping unsteadily as they tried to unwind.  
  
Out of breath, she threw open the door to Maya's bedroom, a conflict of pictures running through her head, all more horrible to envision than the next. Opening her eyes the imaginings exploded in a million pieces as her eyes took in the scene before her.  
  
Catherine let out a sigh of relief. Maya, oblivious to the chaos that was happening downstairs, was playing with her teddy bear, Niles. "Maya, honey, do you want to play a game with Mummy?" She kept her tone light so that her five-year-old daughter wouldn't get alarmed. She wanted Maya to be as calm as possible.  
  
"Can Niles come too, Mum?" After Tobias had given her the bear, Maya was rarely seen without it. "Sure he can." Catherine added softly, "But we have to be very quiet. Come, we'll use the hidden door." Maya started to hesitate. "When I tell you to use it then it's allowed, okay? You wont get in trouble for using it if I ask you."  
  
Sensing her mother's urgency but not understanding it, Maya happily collected her bear and lifted a corner of the wall rug that covered the door, and ran down the stairs. Catherine took one last look at her daughters bedroom with its childish decorations of strewn toys on the floor, bed unmade and pink drapes covering the windows, then she started down the stairs after Maya.  
  
Catherine made certain to keep away from the damp walls. They were covered in cobwebs and forgotten slime. She took a couple of deep breaths, smelled the horrid scent of unwashed stonewalls and almost gagged. Her father had always told her that her great uncle Ronald had fallen down these steps and broken his neck. "His ghost still haunts the hidden passages, Cathie, and no one knows why. Don't go down there Cathie, he may take his anger out on you," her father had told her when on her seventh birthday. It was more the thought of a ghost that had made her forbid Maya to come down here, than the dirt that she had used as an excuse.  
  
Reaching the bottom step, she took Maya's outstretched hand and led her through the maze of corridors hidden under the castle. When finally she reached the door that led to the veil that separated the Light World from Earth, she pushed it open, wincing as the metal hinges screeched in protest.  
  
She scanned the trees and bushes for Tobias and when she could not find him, she walked to the veil and placed her hand on its soft surface. A myriad of pictures swam through her mind of different women who all at one time in their life had come to this spot to be comforted by the veil. It always surprised Catherine how delicate the veil seemed; it was frightening to imagine that the outside could force its way in. At times the veil was as strong as rock, and other times it seemed like a filmy cobweb stretched to its limits. Too weak to be much of a barrier.  
  
Catherine ran her unsteady hands down her daughter's straight black hair, cupping the underside of Maya's head and lifting it to her face. She brought down her lips to her daughter's forehead and pressed them there for a miniscule of seconds. Too long for the impatient daughter, much too short for her distraught mother. Crouching in front of her daughter, she took Maya's hand in hers and placed both on the veil, both looking into the rainbow of colours trapped for eternity in the opaque divider.  
  
"Maya, look at this veil. See how it is sometimes strong and sometimes weak? Sometimes you can count on it for protection; other times we pray that it wont break. Well I want you to know that I love you very much. And that I will love you forever. My love won't weaken, never, never." She whispered urgently. Maya looked into her mother's eyes and saw the unshed tears. Maya didn't know the cause for Catherine's unhappiness and thought maybe she was the reason.  
  
She threw herself into her mother's arms and wailed, "I love you too Mummy! Don't cry, I'm sorry!" Catherine rushed to reassure Maya that she wasn't crying because of her. "I'm crying because I don't want to say goodbye."  
  
"Then don't," came the voice from behind her.  
  
Catherine looked up at Tobias and shook her head. "You know I have to." After gaining her attention he committed a formal bow before his queen. Again Catherine shook her head; "We don't have time for formalities now."  
  
After one last hug, she transferred her daughter into her most trusted knight's arms. "Tobias, I trust you to keep her safe. Here, give this note to her when you arrive. May God bless. Goodbye."  
  
With that she ran through the door, the sounds of muffled weeping seeping through the stone.  
  
* * *  
  
In the main hall, the man was bellowing at the serfs in the castle. Grabbing hold of a maid by her shirtfront, the man roared into her frightened face, "Where is your queen and her brat?" The portly woman with greying hair trembled as she looked into the large man's face. "I... I... I... "  
  
"You what woman! Answer me! Do you understand English? Where is your queen and her little brat of a daughter?" He screamed in her face, disgusted by her cowardly quivering. "I don't know milord," the frightened woman managed to whisper.  
  
Sickened by her, the man threw the woman across the room with a flick of his wrist. His unholy superhuman power stunned the woman, who cowered on the floor where she landed, hoping that if she didn't look him in the eye he would forget about her.  
  
* * *  
  
Tobias shook his head in frustration. Maya had taken a lot of reassuring that this was part of the game her mother had promised her. He hated lying to her, but knew this was the only way to keep the princess safe. Now she was sleeping peacefully in his arms, and he rode on to the university.  
  
He rode through the shadowy path flanked by lush flora and giant trees, his heart heavy, his mind unbearably besieged with visions of his queen and the horror she would face alone; his eyes took in glorious images of natures finest. A bird's call tinkled through the forest, its cry a lonely reminder of how far away civilization was.  
  
A butterfly coloured in magnificent hues of blue and red stopped to admire the petals of a pink wildflower. It fluttered close to inhale the glorious scent, the flapping wings of a nearby bird startled it and it flew away only returning when the bird had disappeared. Tobias wished that he could fly away the problems that Centre Rose faced.  
  
But life wasn't that simple.  
  
He stroked his hand absently through Maya's shiny soft hair and rode as fast as he could. He wanted Maya to be as far away as possible from the situation in Centre Rose.  
  
An opening in the trees marked the path leading to the Tulip City University. He slowed his horse to a trot and approached the huge stone building. It looked stark and uninviting demonstrated by the lack of vines crawling up the walls. The curtains were a drab brown, and he unfavourably compared it to Centre Rose.  
  
The Tulip City University was the only place Tobias could think of that would keep Maya safe until the disturbance at Centre Rose abated. The university housed only the brightest children in a boarding school manner, to further educate them amidst the scholars and professors. Learn with the best; taught by the best.  
  
Tobias closed his eyes for a moment and fervently wished that Queen Catherine's lies about Maya's disappearance and death were believed. They had to be believed. Centre Rose would collapse without a queen to govern it. He knew that when it was safe, he would bring Maya home to be throned Queen.  
  
She had to.  
  
A woman walked up the path to greet them, her light blue gown dancing with her feet, propelled by the gentle breeze. She was looking puzzled at the unannounced arrivals until she spotted the saddle bearing Centre Rose's coat of arms. "Sir, I didn't know you were coming so soon! My name is Marian Treloar. Is that Maya?" Without leaving him a chance to answer she rushed on, "Let me have her. Oh isn't she cute! Come on sweetie wake up."  
  
Maya groggily opened her eyes, disoriented; she stiffened in the stranger's arms. She looked around, saw Tobias and reached out her arms towards him, silently pleading with him to take her from the stranger. "Maya you stay with here okay? You'll be safe here."  
  
"No! I want you." Stubbornly determined to have her way, Maya wriggled relentlessly out of the woman's arms.  
  
Tobias crouched down in front of her and looked into her strange violet eyes, now filmy with unshed tears. Child, you've had such a bad day today, he thought to himself, and I will add to your sorrow by leaving you here by yourself. Among strangers. Oh you poor child, losing more than your parents. Losing your childhood. "Maya what did we always say about the queens of Centre Rose?" he whispered.  
  
"Queens always have to protect their followers," the girl solemnly said the oft repeated phrase.  
  
"Well this time we have to protect you. Because without a Queen, Centre Rose will not be the most powerful kingdom in the Light World. The people will suffer. Do you want that?" He felt terrible for putting so much pressure on a five year old but she *has* to understand. She has to stay *here*. She *has* to be protected.  
  
Maya nodded miserably, knowing from his tone that she would not get her way.  
  
After the explanations were made, Maya stood next to Marian and waved goodbye to Tobias. She held her mother's letter tightly to her chest. Her tears dropping silent and unnoticed off her cheeks to rest on the pebbles below.  
  
In her five-year-old mind she was not being protected by the people she loves. She was being abandoned.  
  
* * *  
  
Fear. Pain. Loss. Uncertainty.  
  
Fear for her daughter. Fear for herself. Fear for her people. Just aching fear. A fear that eats away at her courage, like a caterpillar eating a plant. Bite by deliberate bite. Until the plant is no more. Nothing but a decayed mass, a shadow of its former glory.  
  
Pain. Inner pain. Gut wrenching emotion. A pain of a thousand stakes all stabbing. All hurting. Pulsing into her heart, radiating, rippling away until her body is a throbbing mass of hurt.  
  
Loss. The loss of her daughter. Of her freedom. Maybe her life. Gasping for breath as a tidal wave of emotion pounds into her. Relentless. Uncaring. Images flit by her. Images of happiness. Images of sadness. All images of her daughter. It's too short a time, she screams desperately into her mind, the words pulsating in the mess that are her thoughts. But no one hears her cry. No one comforts her. No one wipes away her tears. No one holds her shaking shoulders to their chest. No one mumbles words that make no sense, meant to soothe not to be understood.  
  
Uncertainty. Uncertain if she can do what is right. Uncertain whether it will work. Uncertain of the future. A bubbling elixir of doubt. Hissing in frothy anger. Steam wafting leisurely, wrapping the mind in misgivings, making it heady with the convictions of the damned.  
  
Catherine stood up on shaky legs and slowly made her way to the main hall. Her head held high, her heart heavy.  
  
Stalling the inevitable, she slowly descended down the stairs that led to her destination. Halfway down she heard a crash and peered around that banister to see poor Lynnette on the floor where the man had just thrown her. Catherine watched in horror as the man was slowly walking towards the terrified woman.  
  
Finally as her shock grew to an undefinable magnitude and she could no longer take in the scene she was viewing, the words the man was shouting penetrated her consciousness and she was no longer frozen in her position.  
  
"I'm here Calum."  
  
The words came from nowhere but were heard everywhere. All of a sudden every person was halted in mid stride, the cook in mid-stir, the maid in mid-dust. The softly spoken words stopped the action as no shout could.  
  
All eyes slowly, not daring to believe what their ears confirmed, turned to the stairs.  
  
There she was.  
  
The Queen of Centre Rose.  
  
About to confront the King.  
  
Her eyes puffy from crying, her hair windblown form her time outside, her cheeks flushed; yet she did not lose an inch of her regal elegance. Her black hair travelling in rivulets of curls stopping mid back, a river of darkness on a plane of light. While all eyes were on her, hers were on one person.  
  
Calum MacKembsy.  
  
The man she loved. The man who didn't trust her. The man who wanted her dead.  
  
As she was thinking this, he strode purposely towards her. Catherine closed her eyes and conjured an image of Maya on her father's lap as he told her a bedtime story; she drew strength from the fact that Maya was safe. She was alive. She was loved.  
  
Catherine's eyes snapped open as Calum jerked her arm forward. "Where the *hell* have you been? And where is that brat of yours?" He shouted the words into her face, his voice a tidal wave of noise, yet despite this, all she noticed was the foam. It was hard, but she resolved to stay silent through this humiliation. She looked over his shoulders and saw that everyone was unusually absorbed in what they were doing; all unnaturally concentrating on sweeping, dusting, chopping. Slowly, she brought her eyes back to his, still silent, partly because she knew it would infuriate him, and partly because she didn't know how to answer him without giving herself away.  
  
*Our* daughter, she wanted to scream, but kept her silence.  
  
As she expected, his face turned an alarming shade of red at this deliberate defiance, and his voice rose, "*Answer* me!" When she continued to be stubbornly silent, he put his hand in his jacket and pulled out a dagger, its blade glinting dangerously as the sky slowly dimmed.  
  
"I won't hesitate to use this. Don't think that our union protects you; that I will be filled with compassion. I wont. Now answer my question" His calm voice was more disconcerting than his roaring. It strengthened the power of his threat, the cold feel of steel on her throat made it more difficult to swallow. Her tears silently fell from her eyes, her brain failed to comprehend that this was Calum and that he was threatening her.  
  
Calum was getting a headache. He didn't want to hurt Catherine. Didn't she know that all she had to do was tell him where her brat was? He felt betrayed by his wife and his closest friend. The girl wasn't even his.  
  
Catherine was never more afraid of another person than she was now. Her heart was thumping so loud that she could not hear the little whimpering sound that were emanating from her throat. "I don't know where Maya is, Calum, believe me," she answered truthfully. She had told Tobias not to tell her, because she was not sure of her resolve when put against Calum's charm, which was obviously absent now.  
  
"Liar." He whispered the word, and strangely she shrunk away from him, as she had failed to when he was raising his voice.  
  
Liar . . .  
  
The gentle pressing of the dagger to smooth skin.  
  
The slide of crimson down blue satin.  
  
The frightening light-headedness that engulfed her where yellow light became a rainbow of etchings playing beneath her closed lids. Her breath quickened. Her gaze lost its sharpness, her body its strength. Suddenly she couldn't stand.  
  
Liar . . .  
  
Then all at once she felt fear. A terrifying fear enveloping her senses, destroying her thoughts. A fear only triumphed by pain. Unbearable pain. Excruciating, slowly shredding her.  
  
A pain that splinters the body yet slays the soul.  
  
* * *  
  
Well? What do you think? Comments or criticism, I can take it. 


	3. Part Two

Thanks to everyone who's been so patient! (I haven't given up!) I've been stumped with so much homework and Sac dates that I think that there's a government conspiracy that wants to keep me from having any spare time. Hopefully it doesn't get any worse than this!  
  
Thank you to all you people you enjoyed my fic enough to review. You all made my day (or month). You guys rock!  
  
Bella Principessa – Thanx darlz! : )  
  
Silver Rasmussen – Thanks. *smiles* The link between the Night World and the Light World will be fully revealed later. So you'll have to read to find out!  
  
Orange – Thank you! : ) *grins* (I read your review and the first thing to pop into my head was "Oh she's/he's so nice" – But that's really corny and it's something my mother would say. lol) Just read your bio and realised that Orange is such a unisex name and that you don't even hint at what gender you are. (That's why I did the whole she/he thing.) I am all over FFN aren't I? But there so much talent there how could I not? I think I do understand the 'I think it is great' remark and thank you (again) for it. (Well I hope I understand) And I also understand the physics homework statement; only substitute chemistry for physics, that's what I'm supposed to be doing now.  
  
April – Thank you for your review. Trust me if I don't finish this story *I* will go nuts because it wont leave me alone.  
  
Kalika – Thank you : ) That *was* very helpful because I'm experimenting with a new weight loss program. I substitute reviews for chocolate. – So far it's working. Lol  
  
Lilychik – I'm glad you liked the chapter : ) *smiles* Thanks for reviewing.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Part Two  
  
  
  
~ "Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where" – John Dryden ~  
  
  
  
  
  
- Love wisely; the foolish suffer at the hands of a lover.  
  
Question openly; the ignorant keep their silence.  
  
Waste not the few moments you have,  
  
Others pray for the few but get none.  
  
Trust your heart, it at least, would never lie to you.  
  
When you feel alone, remember,  
  
There is always someone who cares for you. -  
  
Maya looked at the wrinkled note in her hands, yellow with age, torn from use. It was the only thing she had of her mother, that and the scent of lavender. She thought of lavender each time her mother's name was mentioned. It was the scent she used to identify her mother. To separate her from the mass of people that enter and leave the university.  
  
She held the paper to her chest, and thought good thoughts, trying to convey them to her mother. Wherever she was. She knew her mother would feel the thoughts. Ms Treloar had told her that if she concentrated on her mother and thought good thoughts, her mother would feel her connection see the pictures she was sending.  
  
Maya closed her eyes tightly and thought of the taste of fairy floss melting on her tongue, she thought of sunny days and of the colour purple. She thought of princesses and castles, of fairy tales and happy endings, of love. Then she thought of her reflection, to show her mother what she looked like, and that she was alive. She always longed for an answer, but it never came.  
  
She was too afraid to ask Ms Treloar whether she was supposed to feel her mother's life force when she sent her the images. She was afraid that Ms Treloar would say yes, because regardless of how long she tried, and how long she thought, she felt an unsatisfying . . . nothing. She could not feel one thing that related to her mother.  
  
But she wouldn't give up. And she didn't want to believe her mother was . . . gone.  
  
She opened her eyes and released a breath. She needed air. She needed to be outside. All of a sudden her room had become stifling and she felt the walls closing in on her. "Breathe. Breathe." She gasped the words out, and walking so as not to tax her strength, she reached the door and pushed it open.  
  
The air rushed to greet her and she took a step back, instinctively retreating from its strength. She then walked into the wind and felt it trying to push her back into the building. She ran into the empty courtyard, her heart beating wildly, her arms stretched as if welcoming the wind to her embrace.  
  
Carefree, she ran to find solace between two buildings, as soon as she stepped into the empty space between the art and English faculties, she heard a blessed nothing. The silence was occasionally punctuated by the muted howling of the wind as it tried to enter her warm sanctuary.  
  
The wind howled, and curious, Maya focused once more on the sound. For she had read in many books of the mysterious howling wind, but had never heard it herself. Then again the wind gave a subdued sound that sounded like howling and Maya smiled, amused at the predictability of the sound now that she had recognised it.  
  
Her thoughts were a contradiction and she knew it. She was happy, unusually so. As if something in life had happened, a sudden harmony, the aligning of all the elements that made life. She couldn't explain it, but she understood it.  
  
"Maya," She heard her name being yelled out in the tone of someone who knew they had been heard but were fed up with being ignored.  
  
"I'm coming"  
  
She ran out from between the two buildings towards Ms Treloar, who had at times been her one good friend and at others her tormentor. She now knew that the tormentor memories were those of a child, yet she couldn't help but latch on the first impression she had of the teacher.  
  
Walking towards her teacher at a leisurely pace, she still liked to test Ms Treloar's patience, she hummed a small tune under her breath, then laughed out loud at her tuneless song. She walked around the corner then stopped in her tracks as memories rushed into her head. A picture of a woman hugging her at an opaque wall tinged with the colours of the rainbow. Her mother? A picture of sitting on a man's lap as he told her a story of his youth. Her father? She wished they were. They were the first pictures her brain gave her of the two people that mattered most.  
  
It wasn't Ms Treloar's glare that invoked the memories, nor was it her own laughter, it was the man standing next to Ms Treloar, wearing a small shy smile.  
  
He was a stranger, who while unfamiliar to her, seemed so familiar.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
It was an ordinary Monday morning in the Melbourne CBD. The shades of black and grey clad business people strode purposefully through the streets. They knew where they're going, and are indifferent to the morning drizzle and the gust of wind that has just now breezed through the moving human mass of people walking to work.  
  
On a day of grey skies and grey suits, a man in jeans and a blue knitted jumper breaks his way through the crowd. Many people give him glances of annoyance, at he pushes past, but he is unmoved by their irritation; his mouth curls into a smile as if amused by them. He doesn't wind his way through the crowd, his steps are forceful and his confidence is not challenged. Few get in his way.  
  
He scans the address written in the folded piece of paper he holds in his hands and frowns. Where is that – Ah, there it is, he thinks as he walks. He stares at the apartment blocks and laughs. He is amused that she would pick a luxury apartment overlooking the Yarra to host a private meeting. It's just like her.  
  
A middle aged woman wearing a sophisticated, if gaudy pink suit saw his smile as she was walking out of the apartments and offered a polite smile in return. Feeling unusually pleasant this morning, the man keeps his smile as he walks through the revolving front door.  
  
He knocks on door number 42 and waits as he is scrutinised through the eyehole in the door. She takes a minute too long to open the door and he bears his teeth, at her. He is led to a bright yellow sofa and looks enquiringly at the woman seated in front of him. She continued to stare at him, smiling slightly, amused. He couldn't stand silences; he liked sound, continuous sound. And she knew it.  
  
Alone, he could appreciate the lonely sound of nothing. But in the presence of people, silence made him jittery. "What?" he snapped out irritated that she could last out the silences, while he could not. "What do you want with me?"  
  
The woman, with the straight blond hair, pulled from her face in a ponytail, still smiled, amused at his apparent discomfort. "Well, hello to you to. I guess being such a hot shot with the Council means you can forfeit common courtesy now?"  
  
She was smiling wider now, and then all of a sudden hard gripping hands were around her throat. "Iris, I haven't got time for this. Tell me what was so important that I had to fly out from Sydney."  
  
She had been gazing down at his arm, but then she looked up at him and in her clear grey eyes, he saw laughter rather than fear. "You know, brother dear, I think you actually believe all the rumours that your faithful," her nose wrinkled, "minions spread about you. You just can't deal with the fact that you weren't picked to be part of the council, so to make yourself feel better about your failure, you pick on people who are smaller than you."  
  
He let go of her, and without his support, her eyes widened for a split second, before she slid limply to the floor. Holding out a hand, he chuckled, "If you've finished with your little psychobabble why don't we get onto more important things, huh? Like you telling me what's the big secret that I shouldn't tell anybody about because it might be the biggest discovery of all time? Quite dramatic, aren't we?"  
  
Ignoring his hand, Iris, stood up and glared at her brother. "You do realise that I don't have to tell you, I could have told anybody about my discovery. But me, being the idiot that I am of course, thought that instead of mocking me, my brother would actually appreciate being told."  
  
"Oh for . . . Told what?" His exasperated voice just made her glare become more forceful as she pouted over his lack of interest in her big discovery.  
  
"Well, remember about my trip to Uluru?"  
  
"Yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"  
  
"If you shut up long enough for me to say, then maybe you'll know. As I was *saying,* when I went to Uluru, I felt this really weird feeling just as I was stepping over this piece of land. It wasn't anything big or anything. But I felt it *every* time."  
  
"You brought me here because of a *feeling* you had?"  
  
"You know Lowan, you are really starting to pee me off. Will you just listen and stop being my annoying younger brother? So I felt this weird thing and I went to the local Council Department, which wasn't very local I might add. Anyway, so basically what they say is that I'm an idiot, give me the impression that I'm wasting their time. They're in the middle of nowhere and I come to tell them something weird and I get treated like trash. The bimbo then adds have a nice day as I walk out. God! I could of turned back and just pounded her one straight in that fake smile mouth if hers. So getting back to the point, I go back to the site. You know, for confirmation of my feelings and there was that creepy feeling again. But this time I heard voices saying stuff like the Queen of something that I didn't hear and then stuff like they're bringing her back and oh it's about time. So that was really weird and what I'm getting at is if you could come up with me to investigate. Seeing as how you're the stronger one in magic," she said all in a rush.  
  
His eyes widened and he stared at her not speaking. "Come on," she pleaded. "You owe me."  
  
His eyebrows rose, "I owe you, huh? What, pray tell do I owe you for?"  
  
"Okay, so you don't owe me. Fine. Don't come. I'll go investigate by myself, and claim the credit for my self." She huffed off, about to walk out of the door.  
  
"Iris, where were you walking out of this apartment? Aren't you supposed to be throwing *me* out of the apartment since *you* own it?" He only had about a second's warning before his sister pounced. She landed on his chest and with a thud, they both fell to the floor, all the while she was pounding on his chest with her fists. Laughing and trying in vain to hold both her hands, he said, "But I won't let you go on this damn fool mission alone."  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
The seconds stopped, the minutes froze, the sun disappeared and laughter died.  
  
Death.  
  
That's what caused it. A death. A murder of the innocent; her blood still flowing, staining his hands, he ran. He ran to the edge of the barrier, instinctively choosing the spot she had said goodbye to her daughter.  
  
It wasn't my daughter.  
  
His tears unlike hers were not silent; they did not stem form courage and a strong determination to save lives. They came in violent bursts of emotion. His tears fell freely aided by his occasional hiccupping sob.  
  
With all the strength left in him he pounded his grief onto the veil that separated the worlds. His wet hands smearing the surface with a red tint. His head slowly lifted, each deliberately slow movement portraying his loss. He looks at the crimson, the mark that damned him, and he bows his head once more unable to look upon the last pieces of her.  
  
Not my daughter.  
  
His breath quickens, his visions blur yet all he sees is her looking up at him with courage, not flinching at the touch of the metal. All he hears is her silence, the gasps of surprise from the others. It was then he realised what he did. Who he lost. And why.  
  
She wasn't mine. She wasn't. She wasn't. The statement repeated over and over in his mind until he brought his hands over his ears to stop the voice that only he could hear.  
  
StopStopStopStop.  
  
He couldn't take the pain, the guilt, and the condemnation. He couldn't deal with the loss. His fists pound furiously on the veil until his hands drew blood. He looked at his blood entwined with hers, their fates sealed together. Their destiny changed by a single thought of doubt, of suspicion.  
  
Calum lifts his head; he is no longer looking at her but at the cold stone where she rests. His hands no longer smooth and supple with the vitality of youth, but rather they are older. Not so much wrinkled, as having the possibility of wrinkles, the hair on his arm greying. His life was a wasted mass of self-hatred and regret. For the first time in 12 years he shed tears for the loss of her.  
  
The first tear slowly travels the length of his cheek before being suspended in time at the edge of his chin. It drops onto the gravestone, a temporary testament of his grief and as that drop settles on the cold stone, Calum thought one last thought. It flittered by his mind, unable to be controlled nor could he stop himself from believing it.  
  
My daughter.  
  
As he thought that one thought, he drew his last breath.  
  
A life unfulfilled. A death at the whim of fate. He lived cursing her name; he died whispering one poignant word. So softly that the air it travelled upon did not notice the intrusion.  
  
Only a lonely grey stone heard the word he uttered on his dying breath.  
  
Catherine.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Author's note: Fairy floss is what we call cotton candy in Australia. I used the word cotton candy last time because it seemed simpler, but now I realise that I may forget and use fairy floss, so I'm telling you now. And because I live in Australia, it's much easier for me, if the parts in the 'real' world are set there. Uluru is the Aboriginal name for Ayer's Rock which is supposedly the centre of Australia. 


	4. Part Three

I am very, so extremely, truly, madly, deeply (possibly taking this too far) sorry that I am so late with this update. I can only plead laziness and hope that I won't fry in exercise hell for all my procrastination. I was so busy this month *and* there was a scene in this part that threw in a little surprise that I wasn't expecting. It took me a long time to decide to leave it out and add it in later in the story. Plus *recent development* I fell over and hurt my left knee and my right ankle and am now trying to hobble around on one foot and trying not to bend the other leg. I have now had an epiphany and want to share it with the world: crutches are evil. Evil I say!  
  
  
  
Okay, *ahem* back on track now.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Orange – *grins* Join the club of the Don't-Know-Anything-About-Anywhere- Except-Home-Association. It's an organization for the geographically challenged. Coz no, I don't know anything about Perth, except that it's somewhere around there *pointing in the general direction of west.* Uh hate to break it you ya babe, but it's time you knew the truth. *I* have it worse at school because not only do I do chemistry, I have the worlds worst teacher! Evidence: My chem teacher gave us a test to rank the class and question ten was in FRENCH. We were supposed to translate it into English. May I remind you that it was CHEMISTRY we were doing. *Sticks out tongue* so there! But I will concede that physics is hard, so hope you do well! I did have a great Easter break! *Dreaming of sleep* Hope yours was just as good!  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Part Three  
  
  
  
The girl looked up at the sky through the window, her head tilted backwards. She couldn't believe that the sun still rose from the east, and that the grass was still green. How could the world stay so unchanged when her life had become a tangled web, a jungle of thorns? Nothing could ever be the same for her. She's gone. They're gone. The words she had dreaded to think were now a reality. She wanted to shout her grief. But she couldn't. How can I be so upset over deaths that that happened a long time ago, to people I can't remember?  
  
Her brain could only come up with the scent of lavender. Anything else was lost in the deep recesses of her mind. Why can't I remember? Her brain screamed the question and her head pounding, Maya rested it in the cradle of her arms. Her eyes were burning and a lump was lodged n her throat. She knew that to ease her pain all she had to do was to cry. But she couldn't. She didn't know these people. It was like standing in a cemetery and crying for a stranger. No, not like, it was exactly that. They were strangers.  
  
Regardless of how hard she wished they weren't, it didn't make it true.  
  
Tobias' shy smile had dipped off his face, vanishing from sight. A look of utter desolation replaced it, the look so haunting that Maya had run from its intensity. She now hid in her room, fleeing from the news. Hoping that if she forgot about it, if she pretended that she never heard it, then maybe, just maybe, she could convince herself that it was wasn't true.  
  
Maya ignored the knocks on her door. She didn't want to see anyone. Especially him. He reminded her that she may miss them but he remembered them. She may cry over people who were supposed to be the most important people in her life, but he remembered people to miss. She missed a shadow, a flimsy memory, and a scent. She wanted to hug her mother. She wanted to kiss her father's cheek. She wanted all the things that death made impossible.  
  
Her head lifted as the door opened. Tobias' head poked through the opening, and Maya glimpsed his shy smile again. "The door was unlocked," his smile widened. "I was knocking that whole time, and I didn't even think it would be unlocked."  
  
Maya stayed silent while he babbled on about the door and the lock. She stood up and walked towards him taking the door from his hand and closing it. She led him to her desk chair while she sat on her bed. "What was she like?"  
  
"Well the door *could* have been locked with a weak lock and I could have used excessive force and did I mention I'm sorry. But then again, it really wasn't my fault because . . ." He had continued his monologue regarding her door the whole while, but her quiet question silenced him.  
  
"I don't know how to answer that. She looked . . ." He stopped suddenly and scrutinised her. She had changed from the five year old he remembered. Her straight black hair had become curly; her violet coloured eyes had deepened into a rich sea blue much like her father's. The five-year-old girl had matured into a seventeen-year-old woman. He just hoped that she could cope with her destiny. Her fate.  
  
"Well, actually she looked a lot like you do now. I could lie and tell you that she was the most kind-hearted person I knew who never spoke a negative word about anybody in her life, but I won't insult your intelligence. She was kind, but when she needed to be she was . . . lets just say dedicated to her job, obsessed. She was a stubborn woman, who wouldn't take no for an answer. I guess she was spoiled because while growing up, she knew she would soon hold the most important position in Centre Rose. It was only with close friends, and with *you* and with your father that she stopped being a queen and became a woman, a mother, a friend." He trailed off helplessly shrugging his shoulders.  
  
Maya had been silently watching Tobias while he was talking of her mother, and she saw his slight change of expression. It flit away as soon as it appeared, and she shrugged it off, classifying it as not important.  
  
"So . . . I'm going to be queen? It just feels so weird to say that." She shrugged helplessly, "I–I guess it just hasn't sunk in yet."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry but you'll have to get used to it because Centre Rose can't survive without a ruling monarch. Actually a ruling queen, but I couldn't come for you as soon as your mother died because the people were concerned about your safety if you came."  
  
Her head looking down at her fingers nervously linking and breaking apart darted up to look at his face. "Why? I mean, why wouldn't I be safe?"  
  
"Well, those who killed your mother could have also killed you and then where would Centre Rose be?" He replied with the half-truth smoothly. Quite proud of himself, he gave himself a mental pat on the back for his ability to think on the spot.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Lowan couldn't believe he had somehow been conned into coming to the middle of nowhere solely on a weird 'feeling' his sister had. He didn't have any doubt that he fell for some trick or another; Iris could always manoeuvre him into doing exactly what she wanted.  
  
They had left the ute on the side of the road as Iris led the way. They walked around bushes sprouting from dry ground, and they stepped over forgotten pieces of bark. They were walking in silence, and this time Lowan didn't seem to mind the quiet. He preferred it that way. It was almost a reverential silence.  
  
His mind on Iris's mysterious 'discovery,' he barely noticed the heat pounding on his back. Why the hell did I come? He could find no logical explanation for his presence in the outback. Now that he had the time to think it over, Lowan realised that he had always done exactly what his sister wanted. She had always managed to make each of her decisions to do something seem like his own. In front of nature and my own resolve I do solemnly swear that I will never be manoeuvred ever again.  
  
He let out a little chuckle over his intense vow, laughing at his own gravity and knowing that it was impossible to carry out. Iris looked back and raised one eyebrow; silently asking what he thought was so funny. Imagining her expression if he was honest made him chuckle again and shake his head at her mutely denying her an answer.  
  
They carried on silently again, and this time it was Iris who broke the quiet. "Lowan… " He raised his head to meet her eyes. "Do you believe me that there is something here? Or… Are you just humouring me?"  
  
Hmmm, he thought, how to answer that? Say the truth and most probably get decked in the process? Or lie and *hopefully* carry it off?  
  
He decided for half-truth, because the most successful lies are those based on some slither of truth. "I'm here to find out whether or not I believe you. I think you felt something out here, but as to it's worth, that I don't know."  
  
Sighing, she replied, "Well I guess that will have to do."  
  
"I guess," he agreed, then could almost kicked himself because he knew he should have just stayed silent as she ranted about how unlucky she was to have such an unbelieving brother.  
  
"But I'd believe *you* if you told me you believed something weird was going on," she burst out, unable to disguise the hurt in her voice.  
  
It seemed that half-truths hadn't worked and outright lies would definitely fall flat, so all that was left was the whole unvarnished truth. "Come on Iris, be honest, if I had come to you with a story about how I wanted you to fly hundreds of kilometres simply because I had a weird feeling and heard voices, would you *honestly* have come with me?"  
  
Put that way in his calm reasonable voice, Iris had to admit that it did sound a bit far fetched, but her stubborn nature didn't permit her to confess this, no matter how wrong she knew she was. "I'd *still* believe you." Stubborn, mulish, obstinate, she berated herself silently.  
  
Smiling wryly, "yes, I'm sure you would." Agreeing with her would be easier than fighting; it didn't tax his strength.  
  
"But it doesn't matter. When you feel the weird feeling then I can just step back and say 'I told you so.' I'll be waiting patiently for my chance to gloat."  
  
Sighing, softly Lowan thought it wiser to keep silent lest he have to listen to more of his sister's complaining. She had a tendency to go on and on about one tiny grievance until she thought of something else to complain about. "Uh, how much longer till we get to the place with the creepy feelings?"  
  
"Not much longer." She stopped walking and just stood there her hand raised to shade her eyes as she looked into the horizon. She was frowning slightly as if puzzled by something.  
  
"Don't tell me let me guess. You can't find the creepy spot?" Lowan groaned out loud. She didn't know where they were. Great. That was just great. They were miles away from home and lost in the bloody desert. He only grinned when she turned and threw him a look of utter contempt.  
  
Sneering she replied, "It's over there." He looked to where her finger pointed and then looked back at her. It was a spot like any other in the desert, distinguished by nothing more than a tuft of grass spouting from the dry earth.  
  
"You can tell the difference between here and there how?"  
  
"Talent. I'm just special I guess." Before he could come up with a smart- ass remark, she had run down the slight incline and called back to him, "C'mon Lowan, I wanna say 'I told you so' so bad!"  
  
When he walked up to her he raised a single eyebrow in a silent 'well?' Just wait, she thought smugly to herself. I can't wait till I see you apologise for not believing me and making me feel like an idiot. Enjoying his impatience, Iris dragged out the time by slowly turning her head towards him and putting a stray piece of brown hair behind her ear. She made each movement last much longer than was needed, simply for her own enjoyment.  
  
"Take two steps to you left." She said it casually as if she were remarking that today was an incredibly hot day, or that the sky was indeed blue and the grass green.  
  
This is what he wanted. Yet, now that he had the power to find out the truth, he was oddly hesitant. He could feel this almost shimmering feeling of raw power and he had not yet taken those two steps. It felt like a wave of silk passing over his skin leaving the hair on his arms rise, a sort of static electricity of the invisible. He could almost se the silk, a dazzling opaque colour that trapped in it the colours of the rainbow. There was magenta, he could see blue, violet, green, yellow, orange, red and where was… Oh, there was indigo.  
  
He took a deep breath and made those last two steps to the unknown.  
  
And then…  
  
He couldn't explain it, even to himself. His eyes took in a scene of green rolling meadows where red desert used to be.  
  
And yet…  
  
He could also see the desert.  
  
It was almost as if the two scenes were one, and at the same time, two distinct scenes he could separate from one another. He closed his eyes and opened them. The scene remained the same, he couldn't believe it but the evidence spoke for itself.  
  
Then all at once, where he could only see visual images, he heard the sounds of birds calling to each other, the scent of wildflowers and felt a cool breeze gently brush past him. In the back of his mind, he registered that Iris was hopping around crowing repeatedly, "I told you so," and "you should've seen your face" at regular intervals. But he didn't care, as he normally would have; this just seemed so unreal. Here he was being made fun of by his sister while he entered into what he could only describe as some sort of portal to another world.  
  
After that ridiculous thought, he snorted. Another world? Portal? Man, Lowan Wilde, you have sunk to new lows never reached before. Oh, you may have thought your other pathetic attempts were low, but this new thought is by far the lowest you've been.  
  
Still mentally berating himself, he took two tentative steps forward and immediately his thoughts stopped whirring inside his head. Where he had before seen the two hazy scenes blurring together, he now saw one complete scene that definitely did not include his sister. Turning slowly, he looked around at this place much cooler than the desert heat. Ridiculously, the first words that popped into his head, were 'Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.'  
  
Looking ahead, he stopped in mid-turn and could almost feel his jaw drop. There in front on him was some sort of barrier made from a material that was almost transparent. Through is he could see the fuzzy shape of his sister obviously distressed. Her hands were flinging around her face and body as if she were violently gesturing, and her feet were stamping on the floor in between random bursts of hand flinging.  
  
But, that wasn't what was holding his attention; he was more focused on the actual clear substance separating him from his sister than he was with the person behind it. The barrier seemed to move with the gentle breeze and the colours inside it were arranged in splotches much like a stained glass window picture of contemporary art.  
  
He took one step towards it and touched the barrier, which moulded around his hands much like cling wrap. It felt as though he were touching a bubble that refused to burst. Feeling more confident, he took another step towards the barrier; it pulled at him, as though it were an answer to a question he wanted to solve.  
  
Suddenly, he was back in the desert and before he could catch a breath, his sister launched herself at him, clinging fiercely. "I was so scared. Thank goodness you're back!" Another thought struck her and she pushed him away. "Where the HELL were you? And what *took* you so long?" She poked him in the shoulder, as she was speaking to emphasise the words 'hell' and 'took'.  
  
Still addled by what he saw, Lowan blinked. "I don't *know* what I saw. But I'm going to find out."  
  
Startled, Iris grabbed at his arm. "No you're not! I don't know or understand what the hell happened here but I know I won't allow you to go alone. Don't try to argue."  
  
Lowan grinned, "Iris, you may be my older sister, but you can't prohibit me from doing anything. And I want you to go and contact the council and get someone down here."  
  
She nodded pleased he'd come to his senses. "Fine. Well you want to go now?"  
  
"Iris, yes you go now but I'm staying."  
  
"Why? There's absolutely no reason for you to stay."  
  
"Someone has to check this thing out."  
  
She rolled her eyes then spoke very slowly, enunciating every syllable clearly as if she were talking to a person who was a little thick headed. "Well, duh. That's… why… I'm… calling… the… council… Right?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes again at him, "Anyway, what did you see? What *happened*?"  
  
He shook his head bewildered. "I don't know but the place I saw was cool and was sorta like a farm. I thought it was like a parallel universe or something." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't believe in that shit but I *saw* it. And the thing that separates the worlds from here kinda feels like gladwrap and looks like a weird stained glass window. I could see you screaming and yelling but I couldn't hear you." He shrugged his shoulders again helplessly. "I can't explain. But I have to check it out."  
  
"So how come I don't get to check it out? I found it first."  
  
Pushing her away gently in the direction they came from he said softly, "Go Iris."  
  
She looked back to argue with him but his mouth was set in that stubborn line and she knew she'd get nowhere if she did. Sighing, she slowly walked off yelling over her shoulder, "Next time I get to stay and you go be the run around messenger!"  
  
Lowan ignored that and tuned back to the… *thing* he saw. He stepped forward and was again transported to that place with the rolling meadows. But this time he heard something else. It sounded like a trumpet call and it reminded him of what it sounded like when there was a celebration in England for the Queen.  
  
Curious, he walked towards the sound.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Well? How was it? Give me the truth, I can take it! 


	5. Part Four

I'm actually early for once! Woohoo! I'm pretty proud of the fact that this is only one week after my last update. All this week I've been itching to write this part, it just wouldn't leave me alone until I put it down on paper. But, I warn you my exams are slowly creeping closer and my next update will most likely be atrociously late. How about I apologise for that ahead of time? So: I'm sorry for the late update next time.  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Katherine – Thank you. *grins* I'm kinda pleased that even though I'm writing something idyllic (for the most part, at least), me, as a person, am showing as an underlying undertone. Good luck on your final, and keep writing! I love your fics :)  
  
Orange – *laughs* I can totally relate to he whole singing along with a song for a while before you realise that you haven't taken in anything you've read. Then you don't realise it until you read this really important part in the plot then have to read back knowing you've probably spoiled something really significant for yourself. Don't you just hate that? Yes that mysterious grey box aka the computer, is the cause of many the loss of sanity. And it's acting up quite *a-lot* lately, so I'm trying to see if I can get away with throwing it out the window and telling my mother that its destruction was actually an investment into my future sanity. Yes, I know it will never happen, but hey a girl's gotta have something to smile about. Plus yes, the BIG, BIG stuff is on its way. Not this part, sorry, but maybe next part. Then again, maybe not. And Lowan is in the Light World. He just doesn't know it. And thanks I have a little soft spot for Tobias because he's a mixture of my aunt and uncle all rolled into one.  
  
But for your little crack about the crutches: I… I… I AHHHHH! Go ahead, call me a bimbo my cousins certainly do. *Shaking head resignedly* the whole left knee and right ankle thing… well… my best friend told me to say that I tripped over an ant carrying a bread crumb. Hope that explains that! :p  
  
roswellwbfan - Thanks. I'm glad you enjoy it. I didn't notice it, but now that you mention it the prologue *does* have a sort of 'Matrix'-ey sound to it. (I've just re watched the Matrix ~ coincidence? ~ a couple of days ago and maybe you're probably right.) About the Night World bit, well, hopefully the link will be explained soon; otherwise you have my permission to virtually kick me for being deliberately obtuse ;)  
  
  
  
  
  
And on with the story.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Part Four  
  
  
  
  
  
Lowan stopped as he reached a grey stone building he could only describe as a castle.  
  
Lowan stopped in mid-stride. What, he thought slowly, am I doing? And *why* did I send Iris away? I mean, she could have helped me with the exploring, *then* gone to get help. Suddenly he felt like the coyote in the Warner Bros cartoons, holding an umbrella to hold off gigantic boulders from crushing him.  
  
He didn't know how to explain this thing. It could be portal into a new world, or just a figment of his imagination. A heat induced hallucination, or maybe it was a parallel universe. Oh, yes and maybe the tooth fairy really does exist, a snide voice in his mind replied to his musings. But how did this snide voice intend to explain this place he was in?  
  
There up ahead was what could only be described as a castle. But not just any castle in a dust-filled history book, it was more a castle that a little girl would keep her princess Barbie in. A… a castle that inspired the telling of fairytales. The only way he could describe it to someone was to say well imagine when you were younger and you dreamt of living in a castle, whether you were the fair damsel or the brave knight out to save your princess. It was a castle with indefinite sides, it seemed like it was made of stone, and yet when the sunlight hit the walls at a certain angle the stone seemed to be made of the material that made the portal.  
  
In fact, it seemed as though everything in this world took an almost transparent hue when he turned slightly so that the sun shone in his eyes and he was looking at things from the corner of his eyes. Like that… yes just like that, he thought as he turned. He was looking at the transparent grass when suddenly he could see the dessert floor beneath his feet, and then the image flickered once before it disappeared.  
  
He shook his head, and started walking again towards the castle.  
  
He hesitated before taking the last step into the unknown. Why, he couldn't say. Perhaps he was steeling himself for what he was to see and do. Perhaps he stood a moment to discourage himself from entering. Or, perhaps it was simply fear of what was to come. A fear of the unknown. He shook his head to banish these thoughts and promptly dismissed them.  
  
What I am is crazy, the thought ruefully to himself, just plain nuts. There was no great explanation for any so-called strange phenomenon and he didn't believe in premonitions. They were fanciful ideas for those who wouldn't know truth if it came and kicked them in the ass.  
  
He took those last steps into the castle and was suddenly bombarded with colour and sound.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
It was like a dream, or a hallucination. She felt dizzy watching the dancers twirl, their skirts a blur of silver, blue and red; their legs kicking in the air at regular intervals, the movement in sync. They danced to the front of the great hall in front of Maya before the group split in two and the dancers twirled until they were swallowed by the crowds lined up on either side.  
  
The acrobats in green, yellow and purple tights came flipping to the front. They jumped and flipped in time with each other, each movement a marvel to watch. They formed a circle linking their arms before spinning around, looking from overhead very much like a carriage wheel. One of the twelve men broke away from the group and took a run up before flipping into the air and landing in the middle of the other men's tightly gripped hands.  
  
They flipped and performed a series of gravity-defying tricks before they too were swallowed by the crowds. Maya watched her eyes wide, her whole being transfixed in place. She had never seen such pomp and pageantry before. The university did have its own celebrations for its opening and other such holidays. To her they seemed to be the height of all celebrations, but after seeing this she changed her mind.  
  
"All of this for me," she whispered, not noticing her thought was spoken aloud until Tobias looked at her in question. She just shook her head, this was something she was going to ponder herself, and Tobias needn't know every thought she had.  
  
Tobias leaned down to her seated level and murmured, "Are you okay? You're looking a little flushed m'lady." Then realising his mistake, he quickly changed that to, "I mean, you are looking flushed with joy m'lady and it's bringing such a nice rose colour to your cheeks. Your face is lighting up and you look positively enchanting."  
  
"Tobias you're going too far now."  
  
He nodded wisely, "Yes, I see m'lady. Do you suppose it was the "enchanting" part or the "rose colour to your cheeks" that tipped that save off the balance?"  
  
Despite herself, Maya giggled, "I think maybe when you said that my face was lighting up. Your compliment went downhill from there."  
  
"Hmmm, you don't suppose it might be when I said you were looking positively enchanting?" Getting a look at her body convulsing in laughter, he felt his lips curling upwards. "So you're laughing at my prose on your wonderful beauty. I'm devastated." He put a hand to his heart in mock pain."  
  
"Tobias!" Maya still giggling said, "Come on be serious."  
  
It was then that the trumpets signalled the beginning of the actual ceremony. The dancers, the acrobats, the musicians and the children carrying bouquet after bouquet of flowers were only the townspeople showing off the grandest of their talents. A hush fell over the crowd as they waited expectantly for the real ceremony of crowning the queen to begin.  
  
Tobias wearing a purple velvet robe studded with diamonds was holding the gold and ruby encrusted sceptre. He stood in front of Maya and gestured for her to rise. A lone trumpeter signalled the beginning of the crowning. Maya leant on her knees in front of Tobias as he pressed the sceptre first to her right shoulder then to her left. His voice in an official manner intoned, "The great queens of old are rising from this sceptre to guide you. Their wisdom in decision and their bravery in war are with you. Rise and take their offered gifts."  
  
Maya rose shakily to her feet. Her face carefully blank, but her heart racing with nerves as she thought of the responsibility that awaited her. Her chest squeezed painfully before a warm gliding feeling washed over her. She actually *felt* the wisdom and bravery of the queens of old. She knew that it was impossible and that she was probably thought she felt it, but her heart disagreed. It's real, her heart whispered to her, willing her brain to believe what it could not understand.  
  
Tobias again spoke and banished the thoughts from her head. He handed her the sceptre and motioned for a boy to bring the crown from its bejewelled resting place on a red coloured pillow. Crowning her he said, "The thoughts of the old queens. May they live through your judgements. May your decisions be steeped in the patience of the soul. We the gathered here, crown you our queen. Raise your eyes to the heavens and seek guidance for your decisions as we, united, give you our lives to rule as you see is just."  
  
He put the crown on her head, and in a gesture of enriched in symbolism he took off his purple robe and place it around her soldiers. The prince regent had given away his claim to authority and in a gesture of subservience, he bowed low in front of her to mark his deference to her power.  
  
He turned and looked at the crowd behind him that were dressed in their finest cloths and awaiting their chance to meet their new queen. "Come my friends and pay your compliment to your queen. She is happy and willing to meet each and every one of you."  
  
The crowd surged forward as each person was expected to compliment the queen. This stage of the ceremony was a tradition from the days of old to highlight the people's love for their new monarch.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Lowan was watching fascinated with the process, even if he was so far away that he couldn't actually see the queen. It seemed as though every person who lived in this – He suddenly realised that he didn't know what to call it. A village? A suburb? A town?  
  
A hand clapped on his back and pulled him from his place at the back of the hall. "C'mon lad, it's time to meet our queen. Because you're such a young 'un I'll tell you that you have to compliment the queen then kiss her hand. Remember that, okay?"  
  
Lowan looked up when he heard the scratchy voice and stared at the wrinkled face of an older woman, whose grey hair was neatly pulled into a tight bun and her stooped frame was bent over a walking stick. She raised her bent head and Lowan gazed upon the greyest eyes he'd ever seen on a human. "What, son? Cat got your tongue?"  
  
"Um, no ma'm. I heard you."  
  
"Well then boy are you too uppity to talk to the likes of me? I'll have you know that in my prime I was the personal maid of the queen. Oh, yes, old Lynnette was the queen's favourite. Now, son, don't look at me like that, age has taken its toll, yes, but my mind is still sharp as a tack. I wasn't meaning this queen," Her gaze then became dreamy as she looked onto the distance at images only she could remember.  
  
"I was talking of the old queen. This one's mother. I haven't seen the child since she was a wee little girl. She was a sweet little thing, but cheeky to be sure. Took after her mother she did."  
  
Curious now, Lowan asked, "What about her father?"  
  
Lynnette's lips tightened slightly, an almost imperceptible gesture, "Now let's not ruin such a fine day with talks of the likes of him. But the child doesn't know and we mustn't tell her. Let her keep her memories. She wasn't here for ten years and two, you know. Was safely tucked away for years in a secret place. No one knows where."  
  
She had stopped her commentary and her slow shuffle and Lowan realised that it was now their turn to meet he queen. Lynnette had stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the monarch. She dipped into a curtsey and Lowan was too worried that she might fall flat on her face and embarrass herself in front of her queen that he did not look up when her back dipped enough for him to get a glimpse of the queen He heard her scratchy voice lower in reverence, and his eyed bored into her back, eyes wide. "Your majesty, this is an honour meeting you."  
  
"A pleasure to be sure," Lowan heard a melodious voice reply in return, the voice tired as though the greeting was repeated often.  
  
"You know I was your mother's personal maid. God rest her soul."  
  
"Oh?" This time the voice answered in genuine interest.  
  
"Aye," Lynnette's head bobbed furiously, "you look just like her. She was also a beauty."  
  
"Thank you," the tone had warmed considerably. "I'd like it if we could meet later and you could tell me about her."  
  
"Oh, Majesty that would be a right pleasure to be sure." She kissed the monarch's hand and shuffled off, leaving Lowan a clear view of the queen.  
  
He took the step to her throne and stopped in mid stride. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he knew that it definitely wasn't her. She was clothed in a magnificent red velvet gown with pearls sown into the waist line and pearls at her neck. But that wasn't what held him arrested in his position.  
  
It was her face. It wasn't that she was beautiful in any sense. She had angular features, making her look like a pixie in a fairy story. He almost expected to see pointy ears. Her large blue eyes were the most prominent feature in her face, made her look youthful. She wasn't beautiful, but was… cute. Yeah, that's it, cute. But, that wasn't it completely either. There seemed to be this pull, he had a sort of tunnel vision where everything was blurred at the edges and the only clear thing was her.  
  
Still stunned, he said the first thing that came to mind, "You… you're young!"  
  
A dry voice came from her right. "Brilliant observation young man. Truly brilliant. I wonder, do you always come up with such brilliance? Or is it just our lucky day?" The man who had spoken looked to be about the same age as Lynnette and yet still retained an almost youthful look. He had, to use a much used and unoriginal cliché, aged gracefully.  
  
His posture was straight; his face had only acquired the bare minimum of the required amount of wrinkles that must be shown in old age. He looked to be about forty, two decades younger than he was. In fact, the only clues one would have to his real age were his full head of white hair and his aged eyes. They were teddy brown eyes that looked so morose that it seemed that he had seen all life had to offer, and that it was far from pleasant.  
  
Indeed, it seemed that it was his tart mouth that had stayed the same now as it was when he was a young youth in his prime.  
  
"Did the proverbial cat catch your tongue? It would be a pity as she'd be preventing us from hearing more of your intelligent wit."  
  
The queen giggled softly into her hands trying to stifle the sound. Tobias had continued a continuous monologue through each person's compliment. However, this time, he directed his cutting remarks at the boy and not just for her ears alone. She didn't mean to laugh, really, she assured herself, and it was entirely the boy's fault for his astounded look. How was a person supposed to keep her dignity and royal blank expression in place when confronted with such a comical facial expression?  
  
Lowan couldn't believe this. Here he was making a fool of himself in front of a queen and who seemed to be her trusted advisor was making fun of him. Had they been in his…? What was he supposed to call it? 'World?" He would have given the man a lesson on how to treat a Wilde, but now, in another place, he was at sea to what he was supposed to respond. The man was looking at him expectantly as if waiting for a reply.  
  
What was he supposed to say? On one hand he had been taught to respect his elders, and on the other, how could he keep his pride by being respectful?  
  
"I'm sure the cat has decided that your excess of "tongue" is enough for any conversation… sir." After the words flew from his mouth he wished he could reach out and grab them back. He should stay inconspicuous not call attention to himself.  
  
But surprisingly, the man didn't take offence, in fact, he laughed. "This one's got spunk."  
  
"I agree," the queen turned towards Lowan. "Thank you. You may go."  
  
Obviously, he was now dismissed as the queen was no longer looking at him, but through him, as if he were now invisible. Pride stung, he quickly walked away, hearing the sounds of someone complimenting the queen on her beauty and her answering reply. Fake, it's all fake; he wanted to yell it out.  
  
He then felt a tingling in his brain. He didn't know what it was. He could only describe it as the taste of fairy floss melting on your tongue, and the sight of a rainbow after hard rain, and the smell of the first flower in spring. It seemed so intangible, yet at the same time, so tangible. He couldn't explain it, it just was, and it just existed without any conscious thought on his part. He felt a… a… a thought enter his mind, yet not a thought. Just a suggestion.  
  
Like remembering the taste of chocolate when you're craving it. Tasting it so much you think it's almost real then you lose concentration and the taste disappears and with it all evidence of the taste. He sensed an *urgency* to be in the courtyard after the ceremony. He knew it wasn't his own thought because he didn't know there *was* a courtyard here, but even as he thought that, his mind conjured a picture of it he instinctively knew was real. The directions to it sprang to mind and he followed them out of the hall.  
  
He had come to explore and he wouldn't turn down this offer. Whatever it was. Accepting now, not questioning.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Grumbling foul things about domineering, bossy, rude, unappreciative younger brothers, Iris stalked to the ute. "Chauvinist, overbearing, boorish and – and…" struggling to find more words to describe him, Iris flung open the door and threw herself angrily onto the seat. "And why did I go and leave him like an obedient puppy dog?" She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Because I'm an idiot!" She said it slowly in triumph as if she had just figured it out herself and was telling a very slow person.  
  
I could help him in there, with the navigation; Lowan had always gotten lost even with a compass and a map. Two people could explore larger piece of land faster than one ever could.  
  
'So why is it that I always find the right arguments way too late?' she thought, slamming her fisted hand onto the steering wheel. Debating whether she should just go in after her brother or go and do as he said, Iris kept biting her lips as she weighed up the pros and the cons.  
  
The pros of going after her brother: she'd see that weird place *she* discovered; she's be able to royally piss her brother off; she'd be able to take the credit with him as they *both* explained the place to the Council.  
  
The cons of going after her brother: She'd piss her brother off, which while tempting could be actually quite dangerous; her brother may have already gone deeper into the place and she may get lost trying to find him.  
  
The pros of going to the Council: she'd get to tell the Council her story before her brother gave himself all the credit for finding *and* exploring it; she'd be doing what's good for the Night World.  
  
The con's of going to the Council: she won't get to see the place in the portal if the Council commands it; she won't be one of the first to see the place, if she is allowed to accompany the exploration party.  
  
Thinking for a while, Iris nodded before making her decision.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Any comments or criticism? Just click that handy button on the bottom left corner. 


End file.
